


tin robots, bug-eyed monsters and all that

by ThatMerlinFangirl



Series: we're all stories in the end [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Banter, Companion!Harry, Doctor Who AU, M/M, Pre-Slash, alien!Doctor!Tom, mentions of abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-17
Updated: 2017-06-17
Packaged: 2018-11-15 05:36:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11224416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatMerlinFangirl/pseuds/ThatMerlinFangirl
Summary: In which Tom is on an inadvertent mission to give Harry the best birthday ever.





	tin robots, bug-eyed monsters and all that

Tick. Tick. Tick.

The alarm clock that he repaired a few years ago is sitting in the corner of the cupboard, tick-ticking away the minutes, the luminous digits glowing in the near darkness. The ticking is so agonisingly slow.

Harry wonders if time always passes _this_ slowly.

Because sometimes, time seems to skip through days and nights without batting an eyelid, and sometimes a second seems to drag on forever.

Or maybe he's just mad. That's probably it. Normal people don't think about things like that right before their birthday.

Harry returns his attention to the paper on his lap, a page torn out of an old school book. On it, he has drawn a birthday cake with nineteen candles. He hums as the seconds count down to midnight.

" _Happy Birthday to me, Happy Birthday to me, Happy Birthday dear Harry, Happy Birthday to me._ "

Tick. Midnight. Harry leans down and blows gently on the pencilled flames, drawing a rubber over them as he does. When he sits back up, only a few wisps of charcoal are left on the paper. He can almost trick himself into thinking they're real flames he's just blown out.

It's a very safe bet that the Dursleys haven't got him anything - they never have before and there's no reason for them to change now. Particularly after the incident yesterday, which is why he's locked up in his cupboard now.

But, he can dream.

Harry leans back and shuts his eyes, trying to conjure up an alternate reality where his parents aren't dead and his cake is made of eggs instead of paper...

He sits bolt upright when he hears it.

A faint, wheezing, groaning sort of sound, coming from outside, something he can't put into words, something completely alien to him. It reminds him a little bit of the washing machine.

Harry's brain goes into panic overdrive, because shit, this must be him, he must be doing something freaky again and any second now his uncle will come thundering down the stairs, belt in hand -

He crawls underneath the blanket and tries desperately hard to shrink into nothingness.

Silence. Silence. It's stopped. The noise has stopped. Harry listens, hardly daring to breathe.

Creak of the front door. Footsteps.  
But they're not his uncle's, they're too light. A stranger. There's a stranger in the house.

A whirlwind of _murderer_ , _thief_ , _psychopath_ burns in his brain.

Shit, shit, _shit_ , the footsteps are right in front of his cupboard and Harry's wondering if he's somehow summoned a demon -

The door swings open.

There is a man standing there, draped in darkness, pointing a stick at him. 

... he also appears to be wearing a monk's habit.

" _Lumos_ ," the man whispers, and a bright glow appears at the tip of the stick. Harry scrunches his eyes up.

For several long minutes, they stand in silence and just stare at each other. As minorly freaked out as he is, Harry has to admit that the man is stupidly handsome, with perfectly styled dark hair, high cheekbones and a jaw that you could cut diamond on, which is probably not what he should be thinking about his potential murderer.

Finally, the man lowers the stick and exhales loudly, sounding almost relieved. "It is you."

"Err... what?" is Harry's very intelligent response.

"It's you. Isn't it? You're Harry Potter, you're the Boy Who Lived..."

"Um, well it's just Harry actually -"

"Tom! Tom Marvolo Riddle! Do you remember me?" the man - well, Tom he supposes - practically shouts in excitement.

"Ah... no," Harry says, feeling slightly unnerved. "Should I?"

Tom gives him an incredulous look. Harry stares blankly back.

Then he screams in frustration and starts kicking the cupboard door. 

"Merlin's - saggy - left - _buttock_!" he yells. "Ten years! I've been looking for ten _years_ and when I finally find you, you don't even know who I am!"

The kicks are like claps of thunder, signalling his impending doom. Harry, terrified, tries to stop him, pleading "Sssh, please, be quiet -"

"Don't I deserve this?" Tom shouts at the ceiling. 

"Please, please ssh -"

"Just this one thing? After all I've done for you!"

" _Shut_ _up!_ " Harry whisper-shouts. To his great surprise, Tom actually stops.

"Please, be quiet," he begs him. "If the Dursleys wake up and see my cupboard unlocked they'll think it's my fault and they'll -"

Tom waves his concerns away. "Silencing charms downstairs, we're fine, they won't be able to hear us. And what the bloody hell are you doing in a cupboard anyway?" He grabs Harry's arm, pulling him into the kitchen.

"It's where I sleep."

"You _sleep_ in there?"

Harry shrugs. "It's not so bad once you get used to the spiders."

If he thought his uncle could be angry, it is nothing compared to the seething rage present on Tom's face.

Harry is pushed down onto a kitchen chair and Tom starts rattling around in the cupboards, taking out mugs and spoons and packets. He takes out the stick again, points it at the kettle and it switches itself on. 

Harry has about a million questions jostling for space in his head and he doesn't know where to begin.

"What's that?" he asks, pointing at the stick.

"This? It's my wand," Tom is emptying sachets into the mugs. "Yew, thirteen and a half inches, phoenix feather core."

"... I'll take your word for it." Harry says weakly.

"Good."

"And why are you dressed as a monk?"

"I beg your -" he looks down at himself and seems mildly horrified. "Oh. I was having afternoon tea with the archbishop." He pulls the habit over his head, revealing a crisp shirt and a black tailcoat underneath. "Hmm. What do you think? Can I work a habit?"

"Err... yes," Harry says, slightly distracted by the pleasing view that the shirt and tailcoat provide.

Tom sets two mugs of hot chocolate on the table and sits down opposite him. "Now, this obviously isn't your house, so. Why are you here?"

"It's my aunt and uncle's house. My parents died when I was young, so I got sent here - why am I telling you this?"

"But surely you're old enough to leave home by now?"

"I don't have any money. Um... sorry, who are you?"

"A traveller," Tom sips his hot chocolate. "Just stopping by, passing through, helping out. I fixed that noise coming from the drainpipes by the way."

Which isn't a very helpful answer but tonight has been weird enough already and Harry decides that, for now, this isn't a priority.

"So - why are you here?"

Tom is now fiddling with his wand again, and his answer is distracted, fragmented. "Signals... yes, definitely magical signals... coming right from - no, wait - yes - yes, right _there_!" He all but lunges across the room towards the washing machine.

Harry frowns at him. "You said you'd been looking for me -"

"Did I? I often lose track of what I say, that's the problem with being a time traveller, too many dimensions to think about -"

"You're a time traveller?"

"Yes I am."

"You're a wizard and a time traveller?"

"And I'm also extremely clever, clever enough to notice that there's something very wrong with this washing machine."

Harry, having done the laundry with said washing machine for many years and never encountered a problem, wonders if this man is slightly mad. A tiny part of him (OK, quite a big part) is desperately wishing he isn't, that maybe time travel and magic could actually exist, even though he knows it should be impossible.

"- and if I could just get it open - _alohomora_ _exuo_!"

There is a flash of light and the door bursts open. Harry peers inside, but he can't see anything for the looming shadows inside.

"There's nothing in there -"

"No, look again. Look closer."

Harry gets so close that his nose is practically touching it, and he still can't see anything. "Tom, I'm telling you -"

"There! Right there! You see!"

Harry looks where Tom is pointing and sees it - a flicker of movement.

And as he looks, he realises that the shadows are moving a little _too_ much to be shadows, that they're just a little too solid...

"BACK!"

The command is so forceful that Harry instantly obeys, jumping backwards and nearly hitting his head on the wall.

The shadow has crept out of the washing machine and is slithering across the floor, like a cloak that's come to life.

"Well that's interesting," Tom says nonchalantly.

"What the _hell_ is that?" Harry squawks in alarm.

"A Lethifold."

"A what now?"

"They're magical creatures that feed off any life form they can get their hands on - but they only live in tropical areas..."

"Then _why_ is there one in the _washing_ _machine_?!"

"An excellent question," Tom is slowly backing away, drawing his wand. "Sadly, I'm in no hurry to find out."

The Lethifold is rearing up at them, like a king cobra ready to strike. Outside of the confines of the washing machine, it looks a lot, lot bigger.

"RUN!" Tom grabs his hand and they make a dash for the door just as the Lethifold strikes and ends up crashing into the table.

"What's it doing?" Harry yells.

"Trying to kill us!" Tom shouts. "I would have thought that was obvious!"

He points the wand at it and a jet of blue light shoots out of the end. The Lethifold reels backwards but isn't deterred from it's prey.

"The slight problem," Tom pulls them up the stairs three at a time. "Is that if we can't stop it, it will probably consume everyone on the planet."

"Well that's comforting!"

"I'm just telling it like it i-LOOK OUT!" 

They barely manage to dodge the next attack, which leaves the Lethifold stretched across the wall and sends a mirror toppling to the floor with a crash.

"BOY!"

Harry's heart skips several beats and he freezes, unable to pull his feet off the carpet.

" _Accio_ _TARDIS_!" Tom bellows, charging towards the landing window - and leaping out, into the night and through the doors of a blue police box, which is hanging outside in mid-air. "Harry! Come on!"

"He's getting away! Petunia, HE'S GETTING AWAY!"

His uncle is coming for him, his belt in hand, his red face contorted with rage and Harry shrinks back against the wall -

"Harry! Jump! Jump NOW!"

He's trapped, he's trapped, he's a freak and he's going to get punished -

" _Stupefy_!"

Red light streaks down the corridor and hits his uncle squarely in the chest. He drops like a stone. Harry gapes at him, shaking all over.

"I'll catch you! Just jump!" Tom yells. 

Harry makes a split second decision and scrambles for the window, springing, jumping -

But suddenly it goes wrong, he stumbles in mid-air, he's falling, falling -

" _No_!"

A larger, warmer hand grasps his and Harry is dangling out of the police box, anchored by Tom, holding him up.

"Not today!" Tom grunts, straining as he pulls Harry up. "You're not dying on me today Harry Potter - oof!"

Harry falls right on top of him as he tumbles inside, both panting heavily with the effort. "Sweet Merlin, you're definitely not as light as you look."

"Aren't you just charming?" Harry grumbles. 

"When I want to be." Tom smirks.

Harry goes bright red as he realises just how close they are and quickly scrambles upright - and gasps.

This has to a be trick. There's no way this room can be the inside of the box - no. It can't be. It's too big, too soaring, too vast to fit inside it, surely... with what looks like an enormous hourglass filled with millions of tiny green crystals, circled by swooping brass rings and buttons stood at the centre, surrounded by bookshelves, armchairs, blackboards and all the manner of abnormal clutter.

"But it's - it's -"

"Yes, it's bigger on the inside! No, I don't have time to explain!" Tom brings him crashing back to reality, yanking them towards the central console.

"What are we doing?" Harry asks warily.

"Testing a theory."

Tom shoves his wand between his teeth, presses several buttons and pulls a small, silver lever.

The room suddenly lurches sideways and the wheezing noise starts up again. The crystals in the hourglass are glittering, buzzing, swarming up and down. Harry clings to Tom, who laughs almost maniacally as they shudder and rock backwards and forwards and finally grind to a halt.

Instantly, Tom is at the door, but Harry is faster. He closes a hand over the knob and fixes him with a fierce stare. "Oh no. You're not going anywhere until you tell me what's going on."

Tom huffs. "We do not have time for this -"

"You literally have a _time_ _machine_."

"Don't get sassy with me Potter."

"Then tell me!"

"Fine, I'm an alien from outer space with two hearts who is currently trying to save your planet, as I have done on countless occasions and which I'm quite honestly sick of. Alright?"

Harry slowly loosens his grip on the doorknob. "Yeah. I think so."

"Excellent," Tom throws the door open and pulls him through.

Harry stares at his surroundings, at the clear blue sky, the rippling expanse of water, the towering white buildings.

"Australia," Tom announces with a great flourish of hand.

Harry is struggling to wrap his head around what's happening. "We just... travelled."

"Yes."

"To Australia."

"Yes."

"In a police box."

"Your observational skills never cease to amaze. _Lethifold_ _revelio_ ," Tom holds up his wand, sweeping it around him in a circle. "Well there doesn't seem to be any -"

"Tom!" Harry starts violently and leaps backwards, pointing at the Lethifold snapping at their feet.

"You, me, TARDIS, now!" Tom pulls him back inside and slams the doors. "It's like I thought - some sort of a spell, controlling it, forcing it to follow you wherever you go. That explains why it's so far from it's natural habitat."

"So what do we do now?" Harry wheezes, still recovering from his near heart attack.

Tom grins at him mischievously. "We destroy it of course."

"And you couldn't have just done that earlier?!"

"Ah, my one failing - an insatiable appetite for knowledge. I couldn't help it." Tom pulls the lever again and the room lurches once more. The crystals seem to be burning even brighter in their glass confines.

"Are we going back? To Privet Drive?"

"Definitely not. We're going to the Knightbus."

"The wha-"

Harry doesn't get a chance to finish his question as they land and Tom yanks him out of the doors, into an impossibly clean, white room, full of the strangest creatures he's ever seen, sporting horns, multiple limbs, bat-like ears, green skin, and that one's definitely a robot...

"The most infamous cruise ship in your galaxy!" Tom shouts as they run (today has involved a lot of running, Harry notices). "Lost half of it's passengers once on a trip to the Cauldron Nebula - aha! It's close! Just beyond the door!" 

He sends a brutal bolt of light at said door and it shatters.

"What did the poor door ever do to you?" Harry pants.

"It got in my way." 

They plunge through the empty doorway into another white room, this one deserted except for the Lethifold.

"OK," Tom brings them to a sharp halt. "Now we need to be very careful here - no sudden movemenMMF!"

" _Tom!"_

The Lethifold has leapt at him, engulfing his face in strange, shifting black matter. Tom writhes on the floor, desperately trying to prise it away with his fingers, making awful gagging and choking sounds.

Harry stares at him in horror, unable to think, not a clue how to stop it.

He looks around wildly, spots Tom's wand lying abandoned on the floor and stabs at it with the pointed end as hard as he can.

The Lethifold flies off Tom's face almost immediately and lands straight on Harry's, the air vanishing from his lungs, his vision going black -

" _Expecto_ _patronum_!"

A brilliant white light throws the Lethifold up into the air, where it hangs suspended for a moment before it explodes into shreds of shadow, which fall to the floor like ragged black rain.

Harry coughs and rasps loudly, his insides constricting. 

"You _idiot_ -"

Tom pulls him into his lap, squeezing him none too gently, as if to make sure he's real. "You stupid, noble, selfless - you could have _died_!"

"Excuse me, I just saved your life."

"That was what I was meant to be doing!" Tom kisses his forehead roughly and holds him tighter. "You're safe now, you're safe, you're alive... yes you are..."

Harry should probably ask him to stop squeezing, because he still feels like he's being choked, but it's a friendly squeeze, a comforting one even, and he doesn't really want it to stop because no one has ever held him like this before.

"Come on," Tom stands up and takes both of Harry's hands in his. "Up you get."

Harry lets Tom pull him into a standing position and halfway to the door before he stops.

Too focused on the Lethifold before, he's only just noticed the window that takes up half of one of the walls. And right outside this window are stars. Not the tiny pinpricks of light that Harry is used to seeing, but glittering, swirling shapes, gold, purple, green...

He presses his nose against the glass, ignoring his glasses cutting into his skin because he has never seen anything so breathtaking before.

"Wow," Harry whispers.

"It is something, isn't it?" Tom appears beside him.

A lump forms in the back of his throat, his chest aches with the beauty, the majesty of something as simple as a star. He swallows. "Are all stars like this?"

"No," Tom says quietly. "They're all different. But they're all beautiful too." He tucks his hands into his pockets. "The universe is huge. It's vast and complicated and full of pain, but it's full of beauty as well. If you look hard enough."

Harry is too busy drinking in the stars to notice Tom's heavy gaze resting on him.

\---

"Sundaes for breakfast," Tom strides into the sunny ice cream parlour with Harry at his heels. "A surprisingly enjoyable practice of an old acquaintance of mine."

Harry snorts. "They sound a bit weird."

"He was," says Tom. "Now, what flavour do you want? Strawberry? Chocolate? Fizzing Whizzbee?"

"Err..." Harry's eyes glaze over as they run down the enormous menu. He's never actually had ice cream before, but Dudley always seems to have chocolate on his birthday and Dudley usually gets to eat very tasty (and very unhealthy) food. "Chocolate please."

Tom snaps his fingers and a few minutes later, they're sitting at a table and eating their way through two gigantic chocolate sundaes, towers of whipped cream and sticky white and brown with a sprinkling of gold. Harry stares at it with his mouth hanging open for several minutes while Tom demolishes half of his own. 

Eventually, he remembers to pick up the spoon and scoops up a tiny amount, barely leaving a dent in it. He eats it slowly, eyes shut, his mind blissfully blank, letting the sweetness roll over his tongue. It tastes heavenly.

It's as if he's suddenly hit a solid brick wall. Because he's just had the best, weirdest birthday of his entire life and for the first time, someone is asking him what he wants and how he feels, and he doesn't want to know that inevitably, Tom is going to send him back to the Dursleys, but he does, and it's true, because nothing good ever lasts long and he should know better than to get his hopes up because it just leads to bitter disappointment...

The spoon falls from his hand and clatters on the table and Harry bursts into tears.

"Harry? What is it?" Tom is by his side - how does he move so fast? - his face so full of concern and it hurts, it physically hurts him to look at it. "Don't you like it? I can order another one if you -"

"It's not the ice cream you complete _moron_ ," Harry chokes out.

Tom looks puzzled. "Well... what is it then?"

"You're - you're being so bloody _nice_ to me and I don't even know you and honestly you're the first person who's ever been nice to me really and I don't want it to end but I know you're going to leave me anyway and - and -"

Harry can't bring himself to say it properly, to set it in stone, so he just sits there and sobs quietly, until broad, gentle hands cup his face.

"Who said I was leaving you?" Tom says in a hard, cold voice. 

Harry blinks. "Well... you don't want me to come with you -"

"Merlin's beard Harry, that's exactly what I want!"

"But why?! I'm just Harry! I'm not important or special or - or anything! Why would you? I'm useless!"

"You are not useless," Tom says firmly. "You saved me from the Lethifold didn't you?"

Harry sniffs. "But you don't even know me."

"I never know why. I only know who," Tom's thumbs wipe away the tears on his cheeks. "And I know that it's you. And I am not leaving you with those _animals_."

Harry looks up at him. His eyes are dark grey, like stormclouds, but he can find no anger hidden in them, no lies. Just... sincerity.

"You really mean it?"

"I do." Tom says seriously.

"Really?"

"Really."

At that moment, Harry doesn't care that he's known Tom for less than twenty four hours and that for all he knows he could be a serial killer and that he's quite possibly insane, because he's going to be free. His face breaks into the widest smile he's ever smiled in his whole life.

"Well, come on. We don't have all day. Well, technically we do, but that's not the point," Tom stands up, smirking, and offers his hand. "So. All of time and space, anywhere and everywhere, every star and every planet. Where do you want to start, Harry James Potter?"

"Hey, don't get ahead of yourself Prettyboy."

The smile drops off his face. "What?"

Harry raises an eyebrow and picks up his spoon, settling more comfortably in his chair. "Well I want to finish my ice cream first, don't I?"

Tom groans and flops back down onto his chair. "You are _impossible_."

**Author's Note:**

> Because nobody does Doctor Who AUs and I wanted to write some Tomarry.  
> This is probably going to be a mostly fluffy, disconnected series of oneshots with a vague overarching plot I've got in mind. So, not entirely sure where I'm going to go with this, but we'll see.


End file.
